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Posts Tagged ‘daily life’

So the other day I wander into the Salvation Army.  Why?  Because it’s across the street from where I work.  And because I’m looking for some props for a photo shoot.  Ok.  And because I’m poor.  Why do our conversations always consist of you making me feel like crap? 

the_salvation_army_thrift_store

Anyway, WHY i went there isn’t what’s important Inspector Gadget.  As I’m strolling around and sifting through the ginormous pile of other people’s crap, I am taken aback by the smell of mildew and grandmas.  I find a couple of cool lamps, a chair, and some other random things that might be useful for my plans.    I started to walk over to the book section, just to see if i could find some good looking books, and what happened next was completely out of my control;  thus, I do not take responsibility whatsoever.  [much like with everything in my life] 

So I’m standing there staring at a huge wall of books and so I start doing what any person such as myself would do: peeling off all the sleeves to see if there are any books that match the colors in my living room and/or office area (they’re only a buck, and how can you ever have enough?).  In case I haven’t mentioned it, I collect books.  No, not antique ones, or special ones, or limited editions – just ones that match my color scheme.   I don’t actually read them, so much as I  admire them on my shelves and let them give the impression to all the world that I am mind-blowingly intelligent.  Because in all actuality, I hate to read.  And queue the following conversation between you and I:

you:  but, wait, weren’t you an English major?

me:  why, yes.  yes i was.

you: isn’t that kind of a weird choice of major for someone who doesn’t like to read?

me:  why yes.  yes it is.

you:  so how did you get through that if you hate to read?

me:  well, first I used cliffs notes and then i just quit.

you: oh.  so this all goes back to you being a loser then?

me:  wait, what?  how are you cutting me down again? this is a hypothetical conversation!

Alright, so to recap:  I like pretty books to put on my pretty shelves for my big, fat, fake life.  okay?  I can’t get enough.  So as I’m browsing the books, this man comes running down the ramp and says “wow, $0.10 a book today, can’t beat that huh?”  To which my response was “you’ve GOT to be kidding me!”  No.  folks, this was no joke.  Immediately, I started stockpiling them.   As I am racing to tear off every book sleeve possible before they closed, i am distracted by the following conversation between him and i:

book man:  find anything interesting?

me:  uh not really.  i mean, i really don’t care what they say.

book man:  (takes out a little gadget and scans a book)  well, i’m actually in the book business.  I sell used books.  This one is worth $94.00.  Anything I can help you find?

me:  well, i’m just looking for certain colors.  I only need them for my fake life.

book man:  (just laughing hysterically and sort of staring in awe) 

me:  ( after ten minutes of conversation and filling up TWO carts of books) ….well, I think this is all I can fit in my car, but i got some really good ones. 

book man:  Well good.  good for you.  it was nice meeting you.  you are a very unique and interesting woman. 

….And when i got home I sorted all 52 books into piles by color on my ottoman and sat down on my couch to stare at the victory I had just won.  As I was staring, I realized that now my own living room had acquired the smell of mildew and grandmas.  But it was worth it, all $5.41.

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Every morning, my alarm goes off at 6:30.  I know in the depths of my soul that I have no intention of actually getting up at this ungodly hour, but still it is set.  My actual intention is to press the snooze until 6:45, but I also fail at that because I do not want to be continually disturbed by the most annoying sound in the world.  So I rely on my internal alarm clock to wake me up at the correct hour.  Now, generally, this works. 

Unfortunately, as of late, my internal body alarm is set at 7:05.  When this alarm sounds, I roll over, grab my remote, and turn on the TV.  In my my mind, I am hoping that I will hear something so interesting that I will be forced to get up and check it out…but unfortunately, I am no longer startled by the fact that there is an election going on, nor the fact that Geraldo Rivera is in reporting live from the eye of a new hurricane every three days. This puts me in a bit of a precarious situation as I am left with approximately 40 minutes to take a shower, dry and straighten my very long hair (which could take an hour in itself), eat, make a lunch, get dressed, and leave my house by 7:45. This may seem an impossible feat, and you would be correct in assuming that is why it never gets done.

Needless to say, I usually end up rolling out of bed, rocking the pony tail, eating some Eggos, busting last night’s leftovers, and almost committing involuntary manslaughter on anyone who comes close to me on the road.

I must admit I had a bit of a chipper attitude as I rode the rickety elevator up to the fifth floor this morning, of course, the only reason being it’s friday.  However, as soon as I sat down to my computer and took my first call of the day, everything changed.  When I asked the first gentleman I spoke to today if he could identify his password, he replied, “Neil Diamond.”

Really?

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